When The Light Goes Out

by Jack Thompson

  One of the car doors was open. "Tell me I'm not hallucinating!"

  Maybe, just maybe my luck wasn't quite as bad as I thought. We got closer to the car, cautiously as we did so. This might have been the last dreg of our race, I certainly didn't want to ruin it by getting bitten at the last second. I'm quite positive that Cathy was in agreement. A long squinting stare and I let out a howl of triumph.

  There were indeed keys in the ignition.

  A dead guy in the front seat, true enough. But there were keys in the ignition.

  "I think I can spare a bullet. Cathy, can you hold 'em?" "Yeah, I think."

  I was gentle when I lowered Ian from my shoulder, making sure to get Cathy completely comfortable as I looked around us to check the zombie mobs position one last time. They were closing in, indeed, but we had a car. And I ripped off a bullet.

  Almost immediately after I reached out and touched the man, tentatively at first. Just to make sure he would round and bite me. Then I made quick work of getting him out of the drivers seat. Yes folks, I felt guilty. I felt extremely guilty. I just shot this guy in the head, whether he was alive, or dead, or undead. And I was stealing his car.

  But the way I saw it; Better him than me. Better him than any of my friends.

  I had the car empty in short order, and helped Cathy put Ian into the backseat. We just sort of half curled him on the seat. Because there was no way he could stretch out completely, as comfortable as it may have been. It almost scared me, how peaceful he looked. He'd been in so much pain before he

  No.

  I couldn't even think it.

  I couldn't entertain the thought that my friend had..

  God, did it make me pitiful that I couldn't think it? Couldn't say it? Did it make me stupid, and childish, and in need of a good grow up? I couldn't be sure. I wasn't even sure that I

  cared all that much, if you want total honesty. Because we had more important things to worry about. Like who was going to drive.

  "Who's going to" "You're driving, Excel."

  "I ummm.. If you really want to put your life in my hands"

  "I may not have a life if you don't drive, kiddo. I don't know the way we're going." "I do."

  "Which is why you're driving."

  "All righty then." I took a deep breath as I took my seat, not entirely sure I could get us there in one piece. My most successful experience driving was with my dad riding shotgun, and my brother right behind me, both shouting that I was an idiot, and needed to "turn left, no your other left!" But there was no time to dwell. The zombies were still moving.

  Closer.

  Closer.

  I hit the gas, and took off. Tires screeching into the on coming dusk as I absently reminded Cathy to buckle up. Hypocrite that I was. I personally (at such a sad point in my existence) wasn't afraid to go flying through the windshield. I didn't want Cathy to do the same due to my lack of skill. Given I lived through such a thing, I wasn't entirely sure how I'd handle the guilt.

  And there would be guilt. Quite a lot of it.

  Maybe my driving didn't seem all that bad because there wasn't any traffic to avoid. Because there weren't any angry citizens shouting, and flipping me off as I went by. The buildings were a blur until there were no more buildings, and we were back at about the spot that I'd split from Malachi's group.

  "We're almost there." "You positive?"

  "Mmhmm.." I nodded my head with the noise to make sure she got the picture. "Do you see that building up ahead, on the left?" "Yeah..?" She sounded confused at first, looking around before she nodded her head. "Yeah. Yeah, I see it."

  "That marks city limits." I sped up a bit more. "We'll be there in no time."

  I was almost shocked that, at the very moment I spoke, I didn't crash the car. Because in my head, that was the scenario playing out. We'd be maybe a block from the clinic and

  BOOM the car flips over, we all die, the end. No, it wasn't reassuring at all.

  "Cathy.." I barely glanced over at the woman, who looked in a surprising amount of pain. She, I figured, must have really messed up her ankle. "Do you want to stay in the car while I go get the guys to help, or do you want to go"

  "How about the two of us just carry him in?" "You sure you're up to it?"

  "Positive."

  "Well then.." I started slowing the car, pulling up as close to the face of the clinic as I could. "Steel yourself. We're going to have to move quick."

  I'm rather proud to say that I had the door open before I even completely parked the car. And one foot out the door before I had the keys pulled out. When I said move quick, I

  meant it. Because it was rather dark, and still raining. I wasn't entirely sure if there were things roaming around. I hoped not.

  "Guys!" I shouted at the door, and was sort of shocked that a light flicked on. "Guys, we're back. I got Cathy, and Ian."

  I simply wasn't expecting Malachi to barge through the door, gun out, with the other boy following him. It was the two of them that lifted the boy out of the backseat (after Malachi put his gun away), and into the building. I was practically thrown out of the way so that they could get to him, and thus I figured there was something nasty lurking.

  "Guys?!"

  "Just get inside!"

  "Right! Come on Cathy." "I'll be in, in a minute." "Cathy?"

  "Go. I saw something in the car I want to get."

  "Okay.." I tried not to be suspicious, since Cathy was such a nice person. She wouldn't have lied to me. "Shout if you need help?" "I will."

  So I walked inside. Smiling at the small group there. I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could make a sound something outside beat me to it.

  Bang!

  A gun.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  When the lights are out...

  Confused green eyes turned up in the direction of the ceiling once more, trying to absorb. Trying to understand. Where they were was a complete and total mystery, but so long as the zombies didn't come back she didn't care where they were. So long as she was curled up, warm, and feeling semisafe, it didn't really matter to her. There were definitely more important things to worry about. Thing's like how they were getting out. If they were going to survive. How they were going to survive.

  He was weaponless. She knew that.

  She'd seen them strip his person of all form of protection save his clothing. It worried her, that they'd taken such precautions.

  But that wasn't what she should be worrying about and she knew it full well, as she snuggled just a little closer to what? Her friend? Her caretaker? Her temporary daddy? She didn't know what to call him. Hero sounded pretty good, but he choked when she'd said it before.

  Before the lights went out.

  Her eyes were still sore from crying, and her throat was still raw from screaming, and she wondered why no one else had gone after her. Didn't they like her? Had she been too annoying? Too childish? She just didn't know, and it made her upset in an eight year old kind of way. Very, very upset.

  "Pix..?" His voice was thick from sleep, but the tightening grip told her that he was indeed waking up. Finally.

  She was afraid that the blow had killed him. She didn't want him to die.

  She was afraid to be alone. "Yeah, Dustin?"

  "You doin' okay kiddo?" He had a bit of an accent, accentuated by his just out of sleep state. But She didn't know where it was from. She wasn't sure if she should even ask.

  "Mmhmm. I'm doin' jus' fine." "No, you're not."

  "What d'ya mean I'm not?"

  He groaned as he shifted, picking the child up and turning her so that she was facing him regardless of the fact that he couldn't see his nose in front of his face. It was so damned dark. He'd been passed out. He'd been asleep. He didn't know if it was night or day, but he knew it was damned dark.

  Damned dark.

  Bad things always seemed to happen in the dark. In the dark there were rapes, and murders. Kidnappings. People died without reason, without cause. With
out explanation. In all the movies the big baddies waited until dark to start lurking. To start stalking their prey. To strike. Sure there was an off end case or two, someone gets hurt in broad daylight, but how often? Really.

  Progressively often, if the man was to be completely honest with himself. The zombie attack started in broad daylight.

  However, he decided, that was forgivable. Zombies didn't have the same sense of honor that normal humans you know, of the living variety do. Most normal humans do, rather. They don't realize the conventions. The way things are meant to go. They don't realize that the daylight is best left to psychopaths, and oddballs.

  Then he realized he was trying to find reason behind zombies attacking during the day. He decided then and there that he'd suffered brain damage somewhere along the way. Massive brain damage.

  "You're shaking like a leaf, Pixie." "Well.. Iuh"

  "Yes?"

  "I guess I'm a lil' scared. You know? S'not everyday a girl gots to face off with zombies." "They won't hurt you, I swear it."

  "I know."

  "Then why are you scared?"

  Pixie didn't speak with words then. Instead she chose to lay against Dustin's chest again. Wanting to feel safe in about the deadliest situation she ever wanted to be in. In all honesty, she didn't want to be in it. Dustin did manage to make her feel safe, semisafe at the very least. But he had a kid, she knew. He realized the situation and knew the best way to deal with it already.

  He just needed to promise to protect her. To keep her alive.

  To stay alive with her.

  It was Louie's fault, she supposed. Louie promised he'd keep her safe too. He'd promised that they both be fine but she shivered. Trying, with a kind of desperation that only an eight year old can manage, to keep the tears in. She felt she needed to grow up. She wanted to grow up so badly. A kid couldn't survive the crisis.

  A kid just couldn't. It wasn't possible.

  "I hope Duke's okay?" Dustin absently spoke to the darkness. "Who?"

  "My son." "Oh."

  There was a moment of silence. "Why?"

  "Well.." Dustin sighed, throwing his head back a bit, trying to think. How could he say it? How should he say it? "While I'm here taking care of you, and I adore you little one rest assured, I'm not entirely sure who's taking care of my little boy. He's not all that much bigger than you."

  "Oh." It's not that she felt dejected or anything. "I see." Just a little guilty. She was keeping him from his son. She didn't want that. "Well, you can just go home." And Dustin laughed at the innocence.

  And Pixie took offense. "What?"

  "Nothing Pix, nothing." "No. You're laughing."

  "It's just.." Dustin sighed. "I can't go home."

  "I know it's kinda scary, with the zombies and everything" "No, that's not why. If I could get to him, I'd go in a second." "Then why?"

  "I live across the water."

  "The water?" She pondered. "The ocean? England?" "You know about England?"

  "Only what they teached me ahem. Taught me. In history." "Oh, and what's that?"

  "You guys have funny accents." "Oh do we?"

  And the tickling began. An innocent thing in all honesty, to cheer up the sad girl. To cheer up the sad man as well, in a way. If he couldn't be taking care of his baby, he figured, he'd be taking care of someone else's. He could handle that. He really, truly could.

  "Tell me about your son?"

  "Duke?" Dustin took a moment to think. "He's the smartest boy ever, I'll swear. And he's the sweetest. He once carried a puppy, nearly as big as him all the way to the hospital because it was bleeding. He was too young to realize that the human hospital couldn't do much to help but they certainly got this dog the best vet ever. 'Specially when he threw a hissy-fit, and I got pulled from work to calm 'em down."

  Pixie laughed.

  "I did something like that with a bird once." "Did you?"

  "Mmhmm. It fell out of it's nest." "So you took it to the hospital?" "The family vet."

  "How'd that turn out?"

  "It was dead before I got it there."

  There was a moment of silence.

  Then a bit of laughter. Not at the death of the bird, but at the nonchalance of the explanation. It wasn't something Dustin had expected from the child, and his laughter appeared contagious, so the two sat chuckling. Calm for at least a little while.

  However, when the lights are out, the weirdest things are known to happen. They didn't even see the shadows beginning to move.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  "Cathy?!"

  The tears were instantaneous. Cathy Oh dear God. When she told me to go ahead, I wasn't expecting anything like the truth. Like the situation at hand. It's not what I wanted. I'm sure it wasn't what she wanted either. Probably not what she expected would come to her in the end. It certainly couldn't have been an ideal.

  Cathy was laying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Not moving. Flashes of lightening revealed the gun gripped tightly in her hand, and I couldn't figure out what was going on. I just couldn't. I stood there, staring in absolute horror as Malachi pushed past me to get to her. He dropped to his knees instantly, moving her this way and that, going pale.

  "Cathy.."

  The tears were flowing harder. I couldn't breathe.

  I wanted to know why!

  "What's going on?!" Came an accented voice from behind me. Blaz. "Why're ye cryin' kid?" But I just started sobbing harder. "Come 'ere." And of all the things the old man could have done, he hugged me. Perhaps it was half hearted. I didn't know. But he placed an arm around me and held me there. "Holy Jesus." Apparently he knew why I was crying. "Kai?!"

  Kai?

  The hell?!

  The man gave Malachi a nickname? Since when?!

  "She shot herself!"

  I felt my knees go weak, and the nickname was forced to the back of my mind. Because, suddenly, it wasn't so important. Cathy shot herself? How could the boy possibly be so sure?! Cathy wouldn't have done such a thing. She just hurt her leg. That was it. Her ankle. She twisted it or something. She wouldn't have shot herself. Maybe someone else shot her!

  "How do you" "Gunpowder burns." "What?"

  "Burns from the gun. It had to have come from close range."

  I stared at him.

  The rain started up again. When had it stopped? "So?"

  "The shooter couldn't have possibly gotten away so damned fast." "How would you know?!"

  "Don't ask."

  I wasn't going to push.

  I really wasn't going to push. "Too bad. I'm asking."

  I lied.

  "I took a class." The boy sounded tired, so I didn't push further than that. Yet. I figured it would be a good topic of conversation some time in the future. The future. Like when it was safe to poke his brain a bit. Figure what he knew that I most certainly didn't. In the meantime, I could swear there was howling in the distance.

  Howling?

  "Everybody get inside!"

  Not a single person hesitated. I heard windows slamming shut, and doors being locked. Rather, no one hesitated but me. I didn't know what the hell was going on, so I just stood there. Blaz, however, got a killer grip on my arm and started pulling me inside. I was okay with that, until Malachi got up without Cathy's body.

  "Cathy!"

  "They smell the blood." "So?!"

  "That's what they want!"

  "We can't just leave her there!" "We can, and we are."

  "But"

  "Blaz, get her the hell inside." "Righto."

  And the fucking bastard was forcing me into the building then. First gently leading me by the arm, until he realized I wasn't willingly moving. Then he practically picked me up to get me in. Screw practically, he did pick me up, so I started shouting. Curse words, rude names, incoherent things. I wasn't even sure what, I was so damned angry.

  I started kicking.

  I struggled like I'd never struggled before in my life. The fucker was strong.

  "Put me down." "No."r />
  "Put me down." "No."

  "Put me down!"

  "NO! Now shut yer trap b'fore I shut it for ye!" "Put me the"

  I was rudely cut off by my ass hitting the floor. Boy did Blaz put me down, and I just wanted to turn around and hit him. I wanted to take out a couple teeth. Draw some blood. Of course, I didn't, but I wanted to. I wanted to so badly right as Malachi was pushing something rather heavy looking in front of the door.

  I wanted to scream. "You bastard!"

  So I did.

  I swung my arms, a frantic gesture really. I was trying to hit someone, something, anything. Trying to expend energy. Trying to calm down. Doing so was a bit of a mistake considering I barely stopped fast enough to avoid hitting Ian. Realizing this I did freeze all movement. Hitting the de I still couldn't think it. Hitting the boy was about the last thing I wanted to do if anything.

  I didn't know why Blaz chose to drop me there. It only made me feel worse. A lot worse. But I figured that may have been the desired effect. I was about to yell at the old man, but

  I wasn't able to voice my complaint as something slammed up against the door, and there was movement beside me. Movement beside me.